


Handcuffs, Latched to the Past

by pricefieldpower



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-14 19:52:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14776187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pricefieldpower/pseuds/pricefieldpower
Summary: Chloe has seen many things throughout her police career; but when she kicks open the door, there's a scene splayed out in front of her that she's never seen before. Something about Max's desperate cries for help made her want to dedicate her entire life to this case. But will they ever bring justice?





	1. One

The city never sleeps at night, and neither does Max. Sitting on her windowsill always calms her thoughts, especially while waiting for Nathan to come home. He always disturbs her thoughts. So loud, intense, and painful; like the city. Max wonders if she will ever get a full night of sleep.

She also wonders how she's found herself in this predicament, living at the Pacific Seattle Hotel with someone she isn't even sure she loves. He's always gone, leaving Max to her lonesome.

Sometimes, she's alone for hours on end, only leaving her with her thoughts. She always thinks back to when they were young and first falling in love; the quick loving glances in class, sneaking out of their dorms just to see each other, when they got their first apartment together. It all seemed so surreal, like somehow her past was fabricated.

But Nathan takes care of her. Clothes her, feeds her; lets her go visit her friend Kate at the church. That reminds Max she hasn't seen her devoted Christian friend in a long while, she makes a mental note to go see her tomorrow; if she's allowed.

Taking her chin off of her knee to peer down at the highway in front of their home, the small girl notices that there's not as much traffic as usual.

 **Where is he?** Max ponders, it's 3:04am, he's usually home by 2. Of course on late nights like these he comes home under some kind of influence, which always worries the small girl. She wants him to be okay, but he's never okay. It's hard to watch him hurt himself, day after day; his perfect rich-boy facade crumbling on the marble foundation it was built on.

Hearing the door handle jiggle moves Max away from her view, carefully making her way to the doorway of their bedroom which is on the same hallway as the front door. She knows it's probably him, which makes her shy away; hiding most of her body behind the doorframe. It's taking him a bit longer than usual to get it open, he must be intoxicated again.

Max sees his slouched figure practically throw himself into their apartment, making her back away further. If she was quiet and obedient, it might not hurt so much this time. "Max!" The sudden scream of her names snaps her to attention, not sure if it's safe to move closer to him. Nathan pushes the door to, then drags his feet down the hallway. The girl stays in her spot, keeping her head down so she wouldn't have to look at him. She could tell it was going to be bad tonight.

"N-Nathan?" Max finally managed to speak out, clenching her fists. This was nothing new; it was a never-ending cycle. If he wasn't coming home completely wasted, he was tripped out on drugs. They'd fight. He'd apologize. And Max would fall into the trap yet again. It seemed that this is all Max had to look forward to anymore, life didn't seem to have much of the thrill that it did back when she was eighteen.

"Maybe you should lay down." Max spoke in a quiet voice. She avoided his drunken gaze; she knew all too well. "Don't tell me what to do!" His already bruised hand collides with the wall, causing a loud smack. Max shrieks quietly and burrows further into herself, crouching down; hugging her knees to her chest. "Oh get off the fucking floor!" His large hand wraps around her whole forearm, making it easy to pull her harshly his way.

"N-Nathan, I-I promise I didn't mean it!" The Prescott's anger only rises at her pleading tone, "Shut up! Or I'll give you something to cry about!" He pushes her back down, almost falling down himself from his tipsy state. "I'm going to watch TV, I expect dinner soon." Max is already in tears before he leaves, but now she's glad she made food hours ago knowing he would want something when he got home.

She sees him slouch into their torn couch, and doesn't dare glance his way as she opens the fridge to reheat his portion of the meal. Before the food is unwrapped from her hands, Nathan's phone rings. She listens attentively, always curious to hear who would even call this late. His grumbles came first before actually answering the phone, putting it to his ear. "No, no. I'm home."

The food now heating up in their cheap microwave, "Yeah, I have money. Why?" He's quiet for a minute, his tone is hushed now. "No, I- it's not that. I promised Max-" Nathan huffs out harshly, "No, fuck you! You fucked me over last time remember?"

Max squeezes her eyes shut, silently praying for this night to be over. The sound of the microwave pulls her from her thoughts and back into her reality, as she could hear Nathan shouting from their living room.

 **Stop shaking** , she told herself, **you're not afraid**.

But she is afraid. She's so afraid to the point where she feels numb. **Please don't let this happen tonight. Just one peaceful night.** Her hands are practically death gripping the counter at his loud banter with the mysterious caller. It always comes back to her.

Max doesn't want tonight to be her fault.

"God damn it," Nathan howls, causing Max to freeze up. "I'll fucking kill you!" He roars before slamming his phone into the wall parallel to him. He breathes heavily before falling onto the couch again, mumbling something that Max couldn't quite hear.

His angry pants didn't stop, she knows he's gripping his hair by now. If it keeps going this way she'll just have to tough up, she has to be careful.

"Max, hurry the fuck up." The Prescott demands, causing Max to jump yet again.

"O-oh, sorry." Max reaches to pull the plate out of the microwave with trembling fingers. She takes a deep breath before approaching the man. **Stop shaking** , she thought yet again, stop. But she can't bring herself to become calm. **You're going to wake up and repeat this again, why are you afraid? It's always the same, Max. He'll be nice tomorrow. Just make it through the night, that's all you have to do.**

"Max," Nathan growls. "Hurry up." At this point Max realizes she didn't even grab a fork, and knows she will be scolded for the mistake. In the moment she thought he had a firm grip on the plate when she let go to turn around and go get the missing utensil, she was terribly wrong; causing the plate to slip and crash to the floor. She watched it fall, playing it over and over, each time slower, in her mind.

Until finally, it lands. And the only thing left is Max's terrified panting, and Nathan's harsh gaze that makes her feel like nothing. "Are you fucking serious, Max?!"

For how intoxicated he seemed earlier, he sure sobered up pretty quickly. "I can't fucking believe this!" Max could practically see the veins in his neck bulging out from the fury he's holding back. "I work my ass off, day and night," his words are spitting out at her as his teeth are clenched together.

Max realizes how close he's gotten as he speaks, and she tries to back away to the wall as quickly as possible to get away from his wrath. "And this, is the shit I come home to! You're always so fucking stupid, Max! You can never do anything right!"

When her elbow collides with the wall, she feels a sharp sting in her foot; averting her eyes only for a second lets her see the shattered phone on the ground.

"Nathan, please-" Max cries out, her arms shielding her body from what she knows is about to come.

"You're so fucking stupid," A shove to the wall.

"I regret the day I ever met you!" A punch to her chest, knocking the breath from her lungs.

"You'll never amount to anything, hell, you can't even look at me right now!" A slap across her face. "Look at me, Max."

"N-Nathan I-" Max chokes out, focusing more on the pain in her foot than the sore feeling deep in her stomach from the words he left.

"Look at me!" Nathan jerked her face towards his, but her gaze refused to meet his. They were almost nose-to-nose and Max could smell the alcohol on his breath. His rough calloused hand is wrapping around her throat, and in that moment she finally snaps.

**'You're not scared.'**

Max grasps his shoulders, and with all of the strength that is coming from the fear of the moment; the strength that has been bubbling inside of her for years, she shoves the man to the ground.

And there was a moment where she had no idea what she wanted to do next. She knew that if she didn't do something now then she would certainly be dead.

"You fucking bitch!"

Max reaches down to grab what is left of the shattered phone at her foot and runs as fast as she can to the hallway. She tries to tune out the throbbing pain she feels in her entire body as she hears stumbling feet behind her, catching up to her.

She quickly makes her way into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it, hoping it'll keep her safe long enough. She turns away from the door and lets her back slide on it until she's on the floor.

Max takes a moment to catch her breath. It isn't too long before she hears approaching footsteps and then violent beating on the door, and her heart is in her throat yet again.

"Max, I swear, you are dead to me!" Nathan growls at her back. Max then realizes she's clenching the shattered phone to her chest.

"Please, please work," She pleaded, scrambling to press buttons on the phone. On instinct, she dials 9-1-1.

Nothing.

"No.. No! Please!" She desperately dials it again.

Silence.

There's a moment where Max feels numb. She can't hear anything other than the ringing in her ears and her beating heart. **It's over** , she says over and over in her mind.

And then,

"9-1-1,"

**There's hope for me.**

"What's your emergency?"

————————————

 **It's so quiet tonight** , Chloe thinks. Her cigarette is already halfway gone, and she only has 3 left in her pack. This week she's been smoking like a freight train, but she isn't even sure why. Nothing serious has happened, this week has been flying by so smoothly that she almost wanted to be suspicious of it. But she's not that type of person, if everything is okay, then fucking let it be. There's no reason to make things dramatic. Just relax.

She got a call earlier but it was a bust, it was just a stupid prank. Although they weren't very smart, she found the young teen boys snickering with a mobile behind the place they called the crime about. All she had to do was say she was going to call their parents about it and they were putty in her hands.

Bawling at her feet for freedom; they didn't want to get arrested. Chloe thought it was pretty funny that the 'anonymous' call came from someone called "Anya Dicki", so she agreed to let them go if they won Rock, Paper, Scissors against her. They didn't win though, and Chloe got everything in their pockets. She thought it was a pretty good lesson to teach them.

She leans against her motorcycle, her free hand resting on her gun holster. It's become a habit, gotta be ready for anything at any moment. There's been too many occasions where she didn't pull it out quick enough.

A pain shoots through Chloe's thumb, so she squeezes her leathered hand; the popping of her trigger finger becoming a pain. She told the chief that it was from gun practice, that the kick of the backfire must've done it. He fell for it, but it was actually from playing video games too much.

The fingerless gloves she wears helps her grip when driving; sweaty hands don't go good with handlebars. And they also look hella badass, Chloe's pretty sure it completes her whole 'motorcycle cop' outfit. She also has the leather jacket, but it's not cold enough to wear it yet. It getting close to that time of year though.

There was already a funeral for a fellow officer who died because they crashed their bike, she didn't want to fall into that category. If she's going to die while on duty, it better be in a blaze of glory. Maybe at a big drug bust, something with the mafia, or a bank heist. If it isn't noble, then her time spent on this police force would be nothing. The gun wounds, the scars, especially the near deaths. Chloe's already lost too much on this force. And it didn't mean anything to anyone then.

The buzz of her radio pulls her out of her thoughts, and snuffs the rest of her cigarette; planning to save it for later. "Come in all units in the downtown Seattle area, I repeat, downtown Seattle units. We have a possible domestic violence, are there any available units?"

Chloe couldn't really tell what made her want to pick up the call, domestic violence cases aren't always serious cases. A lot of the times it's just a fight, and you have to waste your time actually going there to break it up. She's pretty sure her dad gives her those jobs.

Chloe knows this from experience, which makes her feel disappointed. **I want something exciting for once, dad always tries to give me the easy jobs so I don't get hurt. But fuck that.**

Instead of responding, Chloe stays leaned against her bike; hoping for a better call. She puts her almost-shoulder-length hair in a small bun, she dyed her hair to match her blue uniform; mostly as a joke but she didn't realize the dye was permanent before it was too late.

Her father, a.k.a. chief of police, was not pleased with this outcome. Everyone else on the force seemed pretty tickled at her bold move, earning her nickname "The Punk" while on duty. Chloe guesses it's also because the sleeve tattoo she has, which came from her friend when she was still a delinquent.

She thinks back to all the things she's done to just piss her dad off, she delves into her memories while the radio continues its' chatter.

"I repeat this is a 6104-Echo. We need any available units to respond." The Echo code grabs her attention, and she decides this call should keep her busy for a while.

Swinging her leg over her bike, Chloe grabs her radio, "HQ this is officer 142 responding to possible 6104-Echo case. 10-20 downtown, where is our possible DV located? Over." She waits patiently for the response, taking her keys out to start her engine.

"10-4 officer 142, call is located in Pacific Seattle Hotel. Over." Chloe knows the reputation for that place, they get at least 1 to 3 calls a month from there; never having actually answered any but she's heard the stories. "Officer 142, 10-76. Over." She revs up the engine, sure to put up the kickstand before zooming off out of the area.

The Punk turns on her sirens and emergency lights, she has to get there as quickly as possible; traffic is always horrible in this city. Only because it's a major city. That's the main reason she decided to drive a bike, Chloe can just drive through the lanes rather than waiting for them to clear. Although that's pretty dangerous in itself.

The bangs of hair aren't long enough to reach the back of her head yet, so they wisp around her face. In all honestly, as cool as she looks and feels with no helmet on, the small slashes from her hair onto her cheeks really hurt. Not to mention the danger of her not being able to see and crashing that way.

It wasn't long before she arrived, pulling out her taser rather than her gun; no casualties is always the goal. She doesn't even have to ask anyone which room it is, the loud banging and screaming is enough of a signal.

This is when the sweat really starts to form, the adrenaline pumping as the action is about to come into play. Chloe goes up the stairs quickly, coming right next to the door. Which is stupidly, left cracked open. She listens carefully before leaning closer to hear the situation. A man, obviously angry, screaming. "I'll fucking kill you, Max! Try that shit again!" More hurried banging, "Come out of there, right fucking now!"

A muffled cry, "No! Please, stop! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Chloe swallows hurriedly, reaching for the radio perched on her shoulder. "HQ, officer 142, 10-4 on the possible DV, 10-78. Over." She keeps her grip tight on the taser as her response comes through. "10-10, no immediate backup available. Over."

"Goddamnit HQ, this is bad. 10-18, I repeat, 10-18. Fucking over." **I need to save this girl, but this guy sounds insane.** Chloe knows she's pretty tough, but if he's on drugs then there's no telling what he's capable of. **I'll have to just do this. This isn't exactly a noble death, but hers wouldn't be either.** The girl's screams made Chloe feel desperate, to just go ahead and bust in.

But Chloe doesn't have a plan, no backup; nothing. She's a one man army. Even if she loves to take risks, these aren't the kind she had in mind. With or without HQ's help, Chloe decides to just try to save this girl.

The sudden snapping of wood snatches the rest of The Punk's attention. "I've got you now, bitch!" It's now or never. When Chloe kicks open the door, there's a scene splayed out in front of her that she's never seen before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi gang. i posted this story before but deleted it because i wasn't working on it, but i'm back to writing so there will hopefully be regular updates. If there's any suggestions or mistakes you'd like to point out I'd be glad to read them. Please remember I'm not a professional writer so not everything is going to be perfect or seem like real life 100%, even though i'm trying to get as close as possible. It might be emotional or hard to read for some people, so please read at your own risk. bye gang.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the positive feedback so far! i'm glad to see people enjoying my story. chapters 1-9 are already pre-written, so i'll be posting chapters every few days until it gets caught up. i originally wrote this with a co-writer, so i apologize if the later chapters seem lacking. i might seek out another writer if it proves to be too difficult. i'm open to suggestions or any help anyone has to offer! thanks in advance :)

Chloe aims the taser in her sweaty palms right at the man who's holding the girl by the neck. Nathan's eyes avert their gaze from Max, and pierce into her own. "Who the fuck are you?" He angrily shouts in her direction. His glazed eyes burn into the brunette, "Did you call her here? Are you fucking serious, Max?!"

Chloe has seen more than enough in her police career that absolutely nothing could take her by surprise anymore. But, as soon as she sees those weary blue eyes silently calling her for help, she knows that this is completely different. This wasn't just some same old fight that she had to come and break up, this was something she had never dealt with before.

"Put your hands up, and step away from the girl." Chloe spoke sternly, tightening her grip on the taser. She could tell, just from his movements and his gaze, he's intoxicated. He doesn't even think about how tight his grip is on the girl's neck, it'll probably bruise. **Bastard.**

Nathan stares dead on at the police officer, pulling on the squirming girl in front of him. "I didn't fucking say you could come into my house!" He roars, Max whimpering and squeezing her eyes shut, her small hands shakily wrapping around his wrist.

It broke Chloe's heart; this girl didn't seem to be putting up a fight at all, it was almost as if he controlled her like a puppet. There was nothing, not even a sliver of hope for herself.

"I'll ask you one more time, step away from the girl." The officer is quickly losing her patience for this shit, and so is the man. His attention is ward off of Max as he turns to completely face The Punk.

"Don't tell me what to do! I'm so sick of people trying to control me!"His grip is lost on the small girl as he lunges towards the officer, Chloe ready to pull the trigger. "Stop or I will shoot!" He didn't even seem to care to register what she had to say, and there was no stopping the ferocity coming her way. Her finger hurriedly squishes the trigger, shooting out the flimsy electrical cords.

One lands in his chest, the other in his arm. Almost immediately he stops in his tracks, trembling violently. He screams out, but nothing verbally correct. Max watches the whole ordeal, watching his pain. She always watches, but this time seems different. She feels this is okay to watch, she isn't enduring the pain.

Chloe's relieved to have stopped him, and rushes over while he's incapacitated to slap the handcuffs onto him. He doesn't bother to fight back, which is a big help for the officer. She pulls him up off of the floor to slouch his limp body against the door of the apartment.

Max braces herself against the wall, trying to comprehend everything that had just happened to her. **Should I be afraid? Should I be glad? I don't know.** Every feeling had made it's way into her mind, but her eyes are aloof and her body is numb.

The officer's obligatory actions were to come next, but as she turns and sees the poor girl she can't but feel like there's something more she should be doing. **This is my job, and she's apart of it. Nothing more, nothing less.** Chloe clears her throat, taking a nervous step forward. "Miss, are you alright?"

Max backs up further against the wall as soon as the police officer takes a step forward. "S-sorry," Chloe quickly apologizes when she realized she had startled the shocked girl. "I'm Officer Price, I'm here to help you. But you have to answer my questions, okay?"

Chloe glances over to Nathan's limp body, resisting the urge to make a grimacing expression. She turns back to the brunette, "Are you okay to talk?" Her hands latch onto her utility belt, a pose that makes her feel more empowered. She didn't feel the need to have more power than the small girl, The Punk's height probably did all the empowering she needed.

Max glances up at officer before quickly averting her gaze elsewhere, as if she's intimidated. She slowly shakes her head, not able to find her voice. Chloe sighs heavily, accepting the fact she knew this would happen. "Alright, well. Backup is on the way and will pick you up, you will have to answer their questions. Your..." She looks momentarily over her shoulder at the man, speaking again when her eyes are back on the girl.

"Friend will be taken to the station. You'll be in separate cars, don't worry. It's over." Chloe felt as if she left her speech on a strong note, so she turns back to tug Nathan up off the floor. She pushes the sloshed man out the door, handcuffing him to a pole downstairs.

The thing about tasers is the prongs, they go inside the victim's skin; needing to be pulled out. When Nathan is standing solidly the officer decides that now is a good time to do so. "Look man, I'm not gonna lie, this is going to hurt like a bitch." She places her left hand under his throat, the other on one of the cords.

After the mental countdown in her head, she pulls it out as hard as she can. Quickly following that, comes Nathan's cry of pain. His hands jerk against his handcuffs and his whole body trembles. I'm sure this isn't nearly as bad as what you put her through, Chloe wanted to say.

"Should have listened," Chloe shook her head, grunting as she pulled with a bit more force and anger. "You did this to yourself, man."

Surprisingly, Nathan wasn't fighting back anymore. Chloe didn't know if it's the alcohol, or the pain, or maybe even the fact that he knows that it's over for him. It was funny, because the drunkards are always the annoying ones. It never fails; they'll sit in the back of the police car, whining all the way to the police station, screaming "I didn't do it! I didn't do anything! Please let me go!"

As Chloe is pulling out the last prong, there's a distant sound of police sirens coming from the highway, slowly masking the sounds of Nathan's sighs of pain. "About fucking time, Jesus Christ." Chloe grumbles. They're late a lot of the time, but they're never this late. She lets out a breath of relief when two police cars pull into the parking lot of the cheap hotel. Not wasting any time, they rush over to Nathan, unhooking his cuffs from the pole. He, still, didn't show any sign of resistance.

Two more police officers approach Chloe, two of which she surprisingly hasn't seen at the police station before. "Where is the victim located?"

Chloe glances up at the opened door to the apartment. "Upstairs." She responds, wondering if the girl is ever going to be okay after this. How long has this been happening? Months? Years?

"But.. be careful with her. She's had a rough night, she's pretty shaken."

The policemen nod and begin to head up the stairs and into the apartment. Chloe sighs and leans back against her bike. One of her hands hooked onto her utility belt while her other hand rubs the back of her neck. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't shaken too; that was somewhat difficult to see.

**It's pretty late, guess I'll just follow them back to the station.** The Punk lets out another heavy sigh before swinging her leg over her bike. It's gotten pretty chilly all of the sudden, so she takes her jacket out of one of her compartments and pulls it on. She adjusts her sleeves, then makes sure the gloves are tightly on. Chloe watches carefully as they take Max to the car, she thought their eyes connected for a moment.

She waits until they crank their car to turn on her own vehicle, and follows them into the night.

—————————

It's pretty busy at the station as usual, but not noticing anyone in particular. Usually there's a few frequent delinquents around. And she knows those, she takes care of them. They remind her of herself at their age. Getting into trouble, doing anything rebellious. Of course now The Punk has calmed down, she still feels the urge to run wild sometimes. But now, she's feeling pretty dead.

**I could really use a pick me up.** She goes to the break room, fixing herself a cup of coffee. Her eyes dart around, noting the few officers around. Not that there's always a good few around. She comes out with her mug, heading towards the chiefs office. She wants to talk about that mysterious victim from tonight, hoping she'll be alright.

Another officer stops her, one she didn't recognize at first with how tired her eyes felt. "Hey, Price. I could really use your help, man." He looks around, rubbing his clammy hands together. "I got that guy, Nathan, he's in the jail cell but I took his cuffs off and now he's threatening to beat anyone who dares to come in. What the hell do I do?" Chloe forgets who's new around here, all the blue uniforms blend in.

She thought of saying the proper thing to do, but the flashbacks of earlier cross her mind. With a thick smirk she confidently states, "Use a taser." The officer pats the newbie's shoulder, continuing to her original path.

She knocks on the tampered glass of the window on the door, earning a gruff, "Come in." Chloe swings it open, taking a sip of her black coffee while she's at it. "Heyo, daddio." Her foot kicks the door closed, standing silently after her statement.

David's bloodshot eyes peer up at her, "Well? What do you want?" She takes that as her cue to sit in a seat opposite of his trashed desk.

"How's the victim doing from the DV case from tonight?" His steel eyes narrow at The Punk, suspecting her of something. "Don't get sweet on the victim. But she's in the interrogation room." Chloe nods her head as she downs another sip of the bitter liquid. "How's that going?" The chief rubs his face, letting out a heavy sigh. "Progress is slow. She won't talk to anybody." **I knew she was pretty shaken, but this seems extreme.** "Well, why not?"

With his thumbs on the bridge of nose between his closed eyes, he knows there's no way of getting around this. "She only wants to speak to you."

Chloe chokes on her coffee, spitting and coughing violently. "What?! Me? Why me?" His broad shoulders stiffen out, placing his large hands folded together on his desk. "My guess is that it's because you saved her. Usually the victims feel a bond with the person who gets them out of that kind of mess." The officer opens her mouth to speak, but her dad shuts her down quickly. "You are not allowed to talk to her. You cannot go into the interrogation room, you aren't a detective."

"How else are you gonna get her to talk, dad? Just let me take a shot at it, yeah? At any moment you can pull me out, any moment I swear. C'mon! Let me do something for once!" She didn't realize how solid her facial expression was, causing the man to break down after a full minute of them staring each other down. "Fine. But I will personally drag you out if and when I feel the need. I will be watching you, Chloe."

The officer's excitement shows through her grin, rushing out the room and to the door of the room Max is in. "Step aside, newbies. Let me show you how it's done." The detective standing beside the door holds his hand out before she reaches for the knob.

"Woah there kid, you don't have the authority to go in there." Chloe's eyebrows knit together, "Excuse you adult, but I'm 22 and I have authority straight from the chief's mouth that I am allowed to go in."

Everyone at the station knows officer 142, not only because she's the chief's daughter, but also for the days when she was always in trouble. She's just as much of a smartass now as she was then. The detective's eyes show a glint of something, before opening the door for her.

Chloe smirks in her victory, taking long strides inside. When the door closes she realizes how dark and dingy it is in there, noting only a desk and two chairs; one of them occupied by Max.

She sucks a breath in before sitting in the seat parallel to the small girl, breathing it out as she scoots up to the desk; placing her coffee next to the notepad. **Here we go, don't fuck this up.**

"Hi," Chloe speaks softly, looking at the girl in front of her. She notes how tired she looks; her bloodshot eyes, her dark circles, dried blood underneath her nose. Chloe could only imagine what she's been through.

Max simply looks down at the rusty metallic table, not even sparing Chloe a glance.

Chloe bit her lip as she thought, trying to think of something that might get this girl to talk. She leans back in her chair and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Listen, I know tonight has been rough," Chloe says. "But you're safe now. We want to help you, we will do everything in our power to protect you. And that means that you have to tell us what happened."

Chloe has never been good at comforting people, she would always say something wrong and make the other person upset. But as soon as the brunette glanced up at her, she knew she must've said something right, right?

"Are you okay to talk?"

A hesitant nod.

"Good," Chloe let out a relieved sigh. **Okay, take it slow.**

"Can you tell me your name?" She talked in a calming voice. There's a few moments of silence before the girl in front of her responds.

"Max," She responds, clearing out her throat. "Max Caulfield."

"Max," Chloe echos. "I like that name." She leans up in her chair to grab the notepad in the middle of the table, and digs in the pocket of her leather jacket for a pen. "Feel free to have a sip if you want, might calm your nerves." She points at the mug momentarily with her newly wielded pen before the officer begins to scribble a few things down.

Max shifts uncomfortably as Chloe does so, pulling the mug closer to her person; before Chloe's eyes lock with hers again. "How old are you?"

The smaller girl feels a bit intimidated under Chloe's gaze, so she quickly finds something else to focus on. "Uhm, I-I'm 21,"

"Oh, sweet! We're only a year apart." Chloe throws a cheeky grin at her, hoping she'll appreciate the small-talk or find it comforting in some way.

"Alright so, when did you and this uh," Chloe stops mid-sentence to flip back a few pages in the notepad. "You and this Nathan meet?"

"W-well uh," Max began. She hated thinking back to the happier, simpler days. It was too much of a contrast compared to her life now. "I believe we met in my senior year of highschool, so I guess around three years ago.."

Chloe idly taps the pen in her left hand as she attentively listens to what the girl had to say before she scribbles it down in the notepad.

"Damn," David spoke, watching from the other side of the window of the interrogation room. "Who knew that smartass had it in her?" He chuckles.

"I know that if I was that girl, and Price even approached me? I'd be terrified." Another police officer adds, also attentively watching the situation from behind David.

"I know this is the last thing you'd ever want to talk about, but," Chloe says softly. "Do you remember when he became hostile or violent towards you?"

Max knew that question was coming, and she wish she could avoid answering it. She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and swallows hard. **You're not going to cry, you're not afraid.**

"I- uh, I.." Max grips the edge of her seat, trying to search for the right words.

"Take your time, Max." Chloe spoke in a gentle voice, which Max found comforting.

"I-It was when we graduated,"

"Mhm?"

"We were fixated on moving in together, so we started saving up for an apartment. I began to notice that he was just... acting a bit strange." Max spoke as she fiddled her thumbs in her lap.

"His family had disowned him, and I didn't find out until later he was hooked on these drugs and alcohol. His attitude changed completely towards me. It was like.. I didn't even know him a-anymore and-" Max tenses up in her seat, trying to ignore the lump in her throat.

"Hey, hey, you don't have to answer anything else, alright?" Chloe spoke, tucking the pen back into her pocket. "Thank you, Max."

Chloe stands up from her seat and pushes it in. "I'll talk to you later." She says as she flashes the brunette a comforting smile, and then walking over to the door. She hesitates before reaching for the door knob.

"Oh, and Max?" Chloe calls out. The small girl looks over her shoulder, but refuses to meet The Punk's eyes.

"Faith is the bird that feels the light, and sings when the dawn is still dusk." Chloe tried her best to recite, pulling her jacket off as she did so. She walked to the small girl, draping the leather jacket over her shoulders. The blue-haired girl pats Max before exiting the room.

Max waits for the officer to leave the room before tugging the leather jacket tighter around her. For the first time, in a long time, she found herself smiling. She felt safe.

When the officer exits the room with a big sigh, she notices a whole group of people staring at her. "That was pretty impressive, not to mention how much of a poet you are." Chloe laughs, holding her cheeky grin, "I'm not. I got it off of a fortune cookie from lunch."

 


	3. Three

Max felt a bit different with the heavy, leather jacket laid across her shoulders. It felt even more different, when her arms were through the sleeves; and when she inhaled the scent of that officer. And that's how she found herself sleeping, using the gift as a blanket. The bench wasn't comfortable, but her alluring dreams were.

Chloe needed a smoke break, and found herself walking past the whole crowded area. And that's how she sees Max, practically wrapped up in her jacket. She smiles instinctively, glad that something can make the small girl happy. With that sight engraved into her mind, she felt a new mission become more urgent than the cancer she wanted to fill her lungs.

Chloe tucks the pack of cigarettes back into her pocket and decided to walk to the holding area, where she found the suspect of this case sitting, his face buried into his hands.

"Finally sobered up, huh?" Chloe smirks, leaning against a wall parallel to Nathan. She wanted absolutely nothing more than to punch this fucker's teeth out; to show him exactly what it feels like to be Max right now.

Chloe knows she isn't allowed to be making contact with the suspect, but after her talk with Max, she felt as if it was completely necessary. She knows that if she didn't do it now, it would be another thing lingering in the back of her mind; another thing that she would regret not doing.

He looks up at her with bloodshot eyes; his face showing absolutely no emotion. "You're lucky these bars are protecting your ass right now." The Punk adds, a little bit of her former teenage rebellion attitude coming in.

He doesn't respond; instead, he buries his face back into his hands, trembling slightly.

"Do you not feel any remorse at all? You should see that poor girl right now." Chloe says, anger rising in her voice. "She won't even let anyone near her, and it's because of you!"

"I'm sorry," He begs with a hoarse voice. "Tell her I'm sorry!"

And there it is. It's the same apology that Chloe has heard time and time again from different criminals. She knew it wasn't out of true meaning, it was because Nathan knows he fucked up big time. **Petty.**

"You can say sorry all you want, but it doesn't change the fact that you ruined her life."

Nathan glances up when the officer says that. He searches for the words to say but he knows that nothing he could say could get him out of this absolute mess that he has caused.

"And it doesn't change the fact that I will make sure that you never cross paths with her again." Chloe speaks in her most intimidating tone. She uncrosses her arms, approaching the bars that separates them. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Officer Price, please step away from the cell." An officer calls from behind her, only adding to her irritability.

"You can think about how sorry you are in prison."

Chloe scoffs, and then turns to exit the holding area. She brushes her fingers through her faded blue hair, and in her mind, she's hoping that she got her point across. Something about tonight made her feel more irritable than she's ever felt before.

**Maybe I just need a smoke** , she thinks, smirking as she passes by the bench that Max is sound asleep on.

**Or a few solid hours of sleep.**

————————————

Chloe isn't sure how long it's been sitting at her desk, filing the endless amount of stacks of papers. She couldn't stand it, she hates the desk part of this job. **This isn't how you fucking help people.** She sighs heavily when she leans back in her chair, rubbing her temples with her middle and index finger. I need to get out of this stuffy shit-hole.

She stands up so fast her chair topples over. "Shit!" She fails at grabbing it before it crashes, causing the station to quiet for a moment. "Sorry! Just my chair." Back to the loud, overbearing bustle sounds. It always gives her such a headache. **Got to get the fuck out of here.** Her feet carry her the fast they can, **I need to get to her calming place, maybe it's as nice as she said it is.**

She was already gone before anyone could even question where she was going.

————————————

Max had left the station, seeing as she was medically fine and she wasn't up for another session of interrogation; they'd just call her to come back when she's needed anyways. Her shoulders and neck slightly ache, most likely from a few hours of sleeping on the uncomfortable bench. She hasn't even bothered to take off the heavy leather jacket, either, just because it makes her feel safe. **Should I have given it back?** Max shrugs at her thoughts, not really caring at the moment.

She doesn't know how early it is, but the morning chill makes her shiver. She doesn't even want to think about going back to the apartment, where everything down to the smallest mark on the wall will remind her of him. She doesn't want to deal with it, as much as she needs to go home and shower.

She decides to go anyways, swallowing her fears. She takes a cab there, using the money she found in the officer's jacket pockets. She makes a mental note to pay her back, before reaching her home door. I **t's okay, Max. He's not here. You can do this.** Her clammy hands reach out for the doorknob, the only thing she can hear is the pounding of her own heart. **He's not in there, he's not in there.**

She chants it in her head, as if it'll help her through this. When the door creaks open from the pressure of her shoulder, she sees all the destruction. The nerve wrecking, memory crashing, destruction. The bathroom door barely hanging onto its hinges, Nathan's hand around her neck. The screaming, the pain. Everything. Her eyes begin to sting, her lungs pulsating with hot air.

Her trembling legs drag into the torn apartment, her watery eyes trying to focus. His overbearing smell fills her nostrils, shaking her entire body. "I can't!" **Everything's spinning, it's my fault. My fault, my fault, my fault! He was my only anchor, oh god what do I do?** Her skinny hands gripping her hair, blood pumping throughout the small body.

**Everything's closing in, he's here; he's here he'll always be here! Run!** She wasn't sure if she screamed when she slams the door, rushing down the steps. She didn't stop running till she was around the whole block, the building out of sight; out of mind.

While Max catches her breath she notices where she is, seeing the coffee shop where Kate takes her for their outings. Her feet drag through the warm building's door, the strong smell of the bitter liquids filling her nostrils. The booth she usually sits at with Kate is empty, so that's where she goes. The brunette feels much better in a safer environment, her thin body barely taking up any space on the wide, leather seat.

She places her shaky hands on the table, trying to gather her thoughts together and function normally once more. She glances around nervously, hoping that nobody is seeing her breakdown; but a hint of blue catches her eye and she recognizes it almost immediately. **No!**

It was none other than Officer Price, looking lethargic with her faded blue hair pushed back, her tired eyes and the sleeves of her button-up shirt pushed to her elbows. Max slides down in her seat a bit, hoping that she isn't noticed. **I don't want her to see me this way again** , Max thought, biting the inside of her cheek and turning to look out the window. **I don't want her to think I'm following her!**

The brunette's attempts to conceal herself clearly didn't work, because her eyes accidentally met with Chloe's and she is pleasantly greeted with a warm smile; the same warm smile that she was given in the interrogation room, the same warm smile that could brighten anyone's day.

The officer waves and then begins to approach her. "Hey Max," She spoke in that same calming voice that Max has heard before. "It's nice seeing you here. Can I sit with you?" The small girl nervously tucks a lock of loose hair behind her ear, not meeting Chloe's piercing eyes. Her face feels hot all of the sudden, and she hopes it's just the warm atmosphere of the room.

"Ye-yeah, I mean, why not?" Her acting was never that good, and she earns a small grin from the officer. "So, how was home? Are you making progress on cleaning up?"

Max swallows down the fear willing to build back up from before, reminding herself that she's safe. "It's totally great! Actually the manager did it for me, totally great." She nods her head with a fake smile, clasping her hands too tightly together.

"Are you uh, feeling okay and everything?" Chloe raised an eyebrow, cradling her chin in the palm of her hand. Max looked out the window, fiddling with the pen found in her pocket.

"Y-yeah, I guess so," Max nervously shrugs. "I- uh.. It's been hard." Chloe listens carefully, paying attention to every small detail of the brunette's movements. The way she avoids her eyes, how her hands move constantly to keep herself busy; her cracked lips struggling to speak the truth. "Officer Price-"

The Punk shakes her head quickly, "Call me Chloe, yeah?" Max's throat seems to get dry quickly, and she finds that swallowing has become a difficult task.

"You can talk to me about anything, okay?" The officer speaks sympathetically. "Everything's confidential. You can trust me."

**She's right. I can trust her.** Max taps her fingers on the table, trying to find her voice. **You don't have to be scared.**

"I couldn't even stand to look at the apartment," Max speaks in a quiet voice. "I.. knew I wouldn't so... I don't even know why I went back." Chloe nods, pursing her lips. The officer figured that would be the case. "Is there anything that I could do?" She proposes. Max shakes her head frantically. "No, no, it's okay! I'm... I'm sure I'll figure things out."

"Seriously, I could help you clean up." Chloe suggests, to which Max turns to look at her with disbelief. "Or, you're always welcome to crash at my place if you want."

Max felt awful. This person barely knows anything about her, except for the fact that Max is a DV victim and is in the process of getting her life together. Yet, this intimidating police officer sitting in front of her has already done so much for her. **Does she just feel bad for me?**

"Why.. why are you doing all of this for me?" Max asked, feeling truly undeserving of the kindness that Chloe was showing. Max was a stranger to her, yet she's offering to let her come stay at her place? "You've already done so much."

"Hey," Chloe says, putting her calloused hand over Max's smaller one on the table. "This isn't too much for me, promise. Just know the offer is always open."

The small girl let her hand linger for a little longer before pulling her hand away, her face feeling a little hot yet again. "Uh- thank you." Max stutters, which earns her a smile from Chloe.

"Yep," Chloe replies, sliding from her seat. "Want some coffee? Sorry I didn't offer earlier, but I'm about to get some now." The brunette cracks a tiny smile, trying to meet eyes with the taller girl but couldn't. "Just get me water."

The officer narrows her eyes slightly at her companion, knowing that she probably just doesn't want Chloe spending a lot of money on her. "If you say so," her shoulders shrug.

Max waits patiently, staring out the window. She didn't even notice it had started to rain, the window's ghost forming around her warm finger against the contrast of cold glass.

Max gets distracted easily, her mind has always liked to wander. Chloe notices as the other girl's thin finger lingers on the solid transparent, **she always seems so distant. So far away; I wonder where her mind takes her.**

She takes her previous seat across from Max, handing her a cup. "I know you said water, but you need some caffeine; perk you up and stuff." Chloe places the warm cup in the other girl's hand, sitting in her spot with her own cup afterwards.

"I just got you one of those funny sounding ones, I figure you'd like it no matter what. Since this is kind of a hipster joint." She sips the hot liquid down her throat, enjoying the burn. Max uses the tips of her fingers, focusing on the cup. Her eyes followed The Punk's arm secretly, just now noticing the tattoo that seems to swallow her arm.

The blue-haired girl sees the other's eyes on her, and smirks a bit. "Y'know," the sudden raspy voice startles the young girl; knowing she had been caught. "I haven't always been a cop. I didn't even plan on being one. I was kinda forced, but I also wanted to do good things."

"Man," Chloe laughs, taking a sip of her coffee. "I was such a little shit before I got this job. Running around, always clashing with the law. Step-dad is the police chief so, you know how that worked out for me."

Max grins, enjoying how Chloe is opening up to her like they'd known each other for years instead of a few hours.

"We used to butt heads pretty badly, but, he cared for me. Got into a bad spot in my life a few years ago, dad offered the job," Chloe spoke, settling into her seat and put her hands behind her head. "Now here I am. If you told me that I would be a police officer when I was a teenager, I would've laughed right in your face; maybe even punched it."

"Enough about me," Chloe speaks as soon as she realizes that she's rambling, which is something she finds herself doing often. "Tell me about yourself. Is there anything you like to do?"

"Oh," Max says in a small voice, "I'm... I'm not that interesting, really."

Chloe bursts into a light-hearted laughter, that the small girl wouldn't mind hearing again. "Come on! There's gotta be something you like doing or you're good at!"

"I went to school for photography, but... it's something I haven't really done in a while." Max explains, with her small hands wrapped around her warm cup of coffee. She remembers how happy she felt whenever she captured a perfect moment. She knew she'd have to go home and pull out the box full of her old memories sometime.

"Maybe I could model for you," Chloe smirks. "Nah, I'm just fuckin' around, I'm not that photogenic."

**Even though I'm sure she's joking; with Chloe's faded blue hair, her sharp features, and intimidating expressions, she'd certainly make an interesting subject.** "Are you completely immune to the idea?" The blue-haired girl was taken aback by her companion's question, thinking she wouldn't ever take her joke seriously.

"W-well I mean, I'm not really attractive enough." Her hands fumble with the end of her tie, "Besides, I'm a police officer, nothing interesting there." Max had crossed her arms on the table while Chloe spoke, head on the spot where her arms meet.

"Makes you an everyday hero." Her short fingernail drags across the surface of their booth table, the silence stretching out as Chloe stares kind of dumbfoundedly at Max.

"I don't think it's very noble, actually it makes me feel like an asshole a lot." **All those people I've hurt or disappointed, their eyes always staring at me. Burning into my brain.** "You saved me." The brunette's sentence presses a weight onto the officer's chest, sure, she's heard that a lot. In a lot of different situations.

But the last time she heard that... fuck, that was when- "Chloe? Are you alright?" The officer tries to swallow the dry lump in throat, so she takes a quick swig of her coffee.

"Yeah, sorry. I just spaced out for a second. Do you wanna get going?" Max ponders and mulls over the idea, enjoying the time away from the harsh reality waiting outside the glass door. "Yeah sure, can you give me a ride back to my place?" In all honesty, the brunette didn't need a ride, she could walk there easily. But something about the officer's company seems so.. comforting.

"Yeah, of course. Not gonna leave a pretty girl just stranded after I paid for her drink." Max thanks that Chloe walks away to trash their drinks; she won't see the deep blush creeping up the other's neck and cheeks.

They step outside into the chilly evening air, the air reeking with humidity. Max takes note that the rain had stopped, only a few droplet fall stranded. Chloe throws her leg over the bike, slouching as she eyes the smaller girl. "I've never really rode a motorcycle before.." Max rubs her arm; looking down. "It's fine, I've never driven with anyone else on the bike before."

The Punk's calloused hand reaches out, "We can have our firsts together." Max smiles reflexively, taking her hand and climbing on the back of the bike. The officer hands her the bike's only helmet, not that Chloe ever wore it anyways. The brunette slides it on, finding out the helmet is too big for her head.

Which makes Chloe laugh whole-heartedly when her head turns to make sure Max is comfortable; **that's the cutest thing I've seen in a long while.** She wasn't sure if she heard the brunette giggle too as she cranks the vehicle, revving it slightly. "Hang onto me, it's safer that way!"

The officer feels the other's limber arms wrap around her stomach, deciding then to kick up the kickstand; driving off.

When they make it to the hotel, Chloe stays on the bike; taking the helmet from Max. She switches the bike off, but stays on while Max stands beside it. "I gotta get back to the station, but, uh," the blue-haired checks her pockets until she pulls out a tiny business card; handing it to Max. "Call me, if you need me or anything. I always have my cell on."

Max holds the card carefully, as if it might tear from the slightest movement. "Are you... gonna be okay?" Chloe speaks, clearly hesitant to leave. Max looks up from the card, to see the officer giving her a concerned expression, which Max found to be kind of cute.

"Yeah, I think so." Max nods. After talking with Chloe, she suddenly didn't feel so anxious anymore. She almost wants to beg the officer to stay with her; but she knows that would be irrational of her. Chloe has responsibilities as an officer, she can't just spend all of her time taking care of me.

"I'll cya later, Max." Chloe throws a cheeky grin at the brunette, before revving the engine and zooming off; casting a cool breeze onto Max.

Max turns to the building, swallowing hard. I **t won't kill you, Max** , she thinks to herself.

**You're not afraid.**

 


End file.
